“pull ‘er up!” ava shouts, her heart racing at the prospect of actually getting a submarine back. whilst communications between her and the convict had been broken due to the depth, she was still glad to see them alive.

even if you’re from eden.

the sound of twisting metal pulls on ava’s heartstrings - she can’t lose this material, this information. it’s certainly worth more than your life.

ava’s crew manage to pull the submarine into the dock, and she’s immediately waiting for the welded window to be opened up.

“oh, my god.”

you’re in an unrecognisable state. blood, oddly viscous blood, sticks to you. your arm has become necrotic. she can’t tell if you’re lucid, or even alive. maybe you had passed since getting the ship to the surface.